by Gina Wilkins
He seemed to have chosen just the right words to put her even more at ease. He’d somehow managed to soothe her bruised ego even further with his compliments, yet reassure her at the same time that he expected nothing more from her than this.
She met his gaze frankly. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us now. I know better than to say we should just forget this ever happened—I doubt that either of us will completely forget—but I hope we can still be comfortable during our lunch gatherings.”
“I see no reason why we can’t. If we managed to convince your entire family we’re married, I don’t see why we can’t act as though nothing at all has changed between us in front of our friends and my sister.”
Though he was teasing, she nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose you’re right.”
“Haven’t you figured out by now that I’m always right?”
Lightly, she punched his arm. “You’re always full of hot air, you mean.”
Catching her hand, he brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “You wound me with your callous words.”
She laughed, feeling as though he’d just made her point.
He was grinning when he pressed his lips to hers. Their smiles soon faded into another long, deep kiss.
Kim learned somewhat to her dismay that her reactions to Tate’s kisses had not lessened in the least. Nor had her hunger for him abated, even as sated as she had felt only minutes earlier.
After kissing her until she was a limp puddle on the sheet, Tate caught her earlobe lightly between his teeth before murmuring into her ear. “When you said just this one time, you meant this one night, right?”
“Yes,” she assured him, knowing he knew she lied. Wrapping her arms around him, she drew him to her. “That’s exactly what I meant.”
Settling on top of her, he spoke against her lips again. “Let’s not waste it, then.”
* * *
Tate did not want to leave. He felt as though heavy weights were attached to his ankles, making his feet drag when he moved toward the door of Kim’s house. There was nothing he’d have liked more than to climb back into bed with her, to make love with her at least once more before the sun rose, and then to wake in her arms to start all over again at dawn.
But that couldn’t happen even if Kim wasn’t pretty much rushing him out the door, he reminded himself. When morning came, Daryn would expect her mother’s undivided attention, and she would have it. Single moms didn’t have a lot of free time for flirting and playing.
Looking at Kim, he sighed rather wistfully. She appeared so young and carefree with her hair tousled around her relaxed face, her slender body wrapped in a thin red robe, her bare feet revealing whimsically pink toenails. He couldn’t help having a few fleeting fantasies about how it might have been between them had circumstances been different. But they weren’t, and Kim’s priorities understandably did not include him.
“So,” he said, “I guess I’ll see you at lunch Wednesday?”
She nodded. “As far as I know.”
He hesitated before reaching for the doorknob. “About those silly bets…”
Her mouth quirked into a half smile, half grimace. “I owe you fifty dollars. I’m the one who spilled the beans to Grandma, after all.”
“Actually, the bet was that you would unintentionally give us away,” he reminded her. “Had you not chosen to be honest, no one would have suspected a thing. So I think I’m the one who lost the bet.”
“I’m not taking your money.”
“And I’m not taking yours. It was pretty much a joke, anyway. So let’s just call it a draw, shall we?”
She shrugged. “If that’s what you want to do.”
“I do. As for the bet with Evan—I’m going to pay him the hundred.”
Kim’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why would you do that? You won the bet, no question. As you said, no one expressed doubts about us. Grandma even gave me her ring, which Lynette said was the ultimate test.”
“Right.” He ran a hand through his still-mussed hair. “The thing is, it just doesn’t feel right turning that sweet gesture into a funny story, you know? I mean, there are plenty of other things to joke about with your family, but your grandmother giving you her ring isn’t one of them.”
She bit her lower lip, considering his words.
Because he didn’t like thinking of tooth marks marring that soft, perfect lip, he reached out to smooth her mouth with one fingertip. “Don’t worry about it, Evan won’t take the money, anyway. Like I said, the bets were just jokes.”
She nodded.
Standing so close to her just made him want to kiss her again. Because he knew where that would lead, he forced himself to take a step back. “You’d better get some rest. Daryn will be up at six.”
The words were aimed as much to himself as to her, a reminder of the reason he was leaving when he wanted so badly to stay.
“Yes. Good night, Tate.”
Keeping his hands to himself, he brushed a quick kiss over her lips. Just one last taste, he promised himself. “Good night, Kim.”
He reached for the doorknob, then paused to look over his shoulder. “You know, maybe we could…I don’t know, have pizza or see a movie or something sometime. I mean, you can get a babysitter for a few hours, can’t you? Even moms get to have a little time to themselves sometimes, right?”
She was shaking her head before he even finished speaking. “I don’t like leaving Daryn with a sitter when I already have to leave her at day care while I work. Any free time I have now belongs to her.”
It wasn’t his place to argue, of course, but that didn’t sound entirely healthy to him. Then again, maybe he was letting himself be influenced by his own selfish interests. “Maybe we could have pizza and a movie here sometime. You know, after she goes to bed.”
What was he doing? Hadn’t they agreed this was a one-time thing? Not quite as casual as “scratching an itch,” as Kim had described it, but not the start of anything more, either. Still, what would it hurt to get together occasionally for a pizza or something? He had a sneaking suspicion of what that “something” entailed, at least in his vague imaginings.
Kim turned him down yet again. “That’s not a good idea. I wouldn’t be opposed to having the lunch gang over for pizza or something some evening, but as far as you and I are concerned, it’s better for everyone involved if we just end it now.”
Better for herself and for Daryn, she might as well have said. And okay, maybe better for him, too, but he would have liked to make that decision for himself.
“Yeah, okay. It was just a thought, but I’m sure you know best.” He opened the door. “Good night, Kim. See you around.”
“Tate?”
He hesitated, half in, half out the door. He didn’t look at her, not wanting her to see that his feelings were foolishly hurt by her rejection.
Maybe she sensed it, anyway. “I just want you to know that if it weren’t for Daryn—well, I wouldn’t be sending you away tonight. And I wouldn’t have said no to a pizza or a movie with you. It isn’t that I don’t want to spend more time with you. It’s that I just can’t.”
He nodded and closed the door behind him on the way out, only partially appeased.
He was being ridiculous to be so annoyed, he told himself as he climbed into his truck and closed the door harder than he should have, considering the late hour. Technically, he agreed with Kim. She wasn’t in a position to have a fling, even had she been interested, and he wasn’t looking for more right now. Yet no matter how often he reminded himself of those facts, it still irked him that she’d shot him down when he had tentatively suggested they spend more time together.
Must be a male pride thing, he told himself as he drove away from her house. Though his ego had certainly gotten
a boost from her earlier in the evening, all she’d had to do was decline his suggestions to deflate it again. He hadn’t realized his feelings were quite so delicate when it came to Kim.
He reached out to flip the turn signal level and a glint of gold on his hand reflected a passing streetlight, catching his attention. He realized he still wore his grandfather’s wedding band. The ring had felt odd at first, since he rarely wore jewelry other than a serviceable watch. Sometime during the past thirty-six hours or so, he’d grown accustomed to it being there.
He’d forgotten to leave the usual lamp burning in his apartment, so the rooms were dark when he unlocked the door and let himself in. He didn’t bother with lights when he crossed the living room into his bedroom; enough illumination filtered in through the blinds for him to find his way easily through the familiar path. Dropping his bags on the floor of the bedroom, he crossed to the dresser where he kept the box for his grandfather’s ring in a drawer with a few other miscellaneous, mostly sentimental treasures.
For several long moments, he studied the ring on his hand. And then he removed it, stuffed it into its box and closed the drawer with a snap that echoed through the quiet room.
* * *
When Kim’s phone rang the next afternoon, her heart beat a bit too quickly as she answered it. She glanced at the ID screen and told herself she was relieved to see Lynette’s number. It wasn’t that she was expecting anyone else to call, she assured herself quickly. Lynette was simply the least problematic of the list of potential callers just then.
“Hi, Lynn.”
“My place. Five o’clock. I’m making veggie lasagna. Don’t say you can’t come, I’ve already started cooking and you know how I hate to cook. Em and I want to hear all the juicy details.”
“But I—”
“Five o’clock,” her friend repeated. “Emma’s bringing dessert. You pick up a loaf of French bread. We’ll smear butter and garlic on it and pop it in the oven here. Tell Daryn to bring her own bottle.”
Kim smiled ruefully. She knew when she’d be wasting her breath to argue. Besides, she supposed she’d just as soon spend some time laughing with Lynette and Emma than sitting in her living room trying not to think about Tate. She needed to return the wedding band, anyway. “All right. I’ll be there.”
“Of course. See you.”
Lynette disconnected without further ado, leaving Kim laughing. “Looks like we have plans for this evening,” she told Daryn, who sat on the floor with her favorite toys gathered around her.
“Mamamama.”
“Why, yes, I will have to be careful about what I say,” Kim mused aloud. “Lynette might pretend to be a bit of a ditz at times, but she sees a lot more than she lets on.”
Daryn blew a raspberry, then giggled at her own wit.
Kim wondered if Lynette had already talked to her brother. She wondered what Tate had said if they’d spoken. She wondered if he was thinking of her at that moment the way she was thinking of him.
And then she wondered in irritation if she was losing her mind.
“Let’s go into the kitchen, sweetie,” she said, scooping her daughter from the floor. “You can sit in your high chair and eat puffed snacks while I pack something for your dinner tonight.”
Daryn seemed perfectly happy with that plan.
After a quick stop at her favorite bakery for a loaf of good bread, she made the short drive to Lynette’s apartment complex. With the ease of experience, she threw the strap of the diaper bag over her shoulder, balanced Daryn on her hip and tucked the big loaf of bread beneath the other arm. She closed the car door with her free hip and locked it with the remote fob before heading toward Lynette’s door.
Her friend’s apartment opened to the outside on the top floor of the three-story building. There was no elevator, so Kim climbed the two flights of metal stairs leading up to the top landing. Lynette’s was the last door down.
Kim paused at the end of the landing to admire the scenery. The immaculately landscaped complex grounds ended at a raised, grassy levy, beyond which lay the south bank of the swiftly flowing Arkansas River. Tall rock bluffs rose on the other side of the river; to the east lay downtown Little Rock. To the west lay the 4,226-foot long pedestrian and biking structure known as the “Big Dam Bridge” over the Murray Lock and Dam. Before she’d had Daryn, Kim had biked across that bridge many times, enjoying the view from ninety feet above the river surface. She had little time for biking these days, though she hoped to buy a bike seat for Daryn next spring and get back out on the trails.
Holding the bread beneath her arm, she tapped on Lynette’s door, expecting Lynette or Emma to open it.
She did not expect to see Tate on the other side of the door.
He smiled easily at her, though his eyes focused on her face with more than usual intensity. “Hi, Kim. Come on in.”
Had Lynette deliberately forgotten to mention that her brother would be here this evening? And if so, why?
“Hi, Tate.”
Seeing the familiar face, Daryn grinned and shook Mr. Jingles at him.
“Hey, Daryn. How’s it going, kiddo?”
She babbled a response, making Tate chuckle. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”
Lynette rushed forward to take the bread and greet Kim with a hug and Daryn with a smacking kiss. “I can’t wait to hear your stories,” she teased Kim. “Tate wouldn’t tell us a thing. He said since it’s your family, you’re the one who gets to decide which stories get told.”
Emma reached out her hands to Daryn, who dove willingly into the welcoming arms, always amenable to extra attention. Kim set the diaper bag on the floor at the end of the couch, greeting Evan, who had risen when she’d entered.
“Tate won’t even tell me whether I won the bet,” Evan complained. “He keeps saying it’s a draw, so no money will be changing hands. That doesn’t even make sense.”
“He just doesn’t want to take your money,” Kim said without looking at Tate. Smiling brightly, she added, “He won the bet, fair and square. No one in my family had any reason to doubt that he was exactly who my mother said he was.”
Lynette hooted victoriously. “I told you he could do it,” she bragged to Evan and Emma. “Tate’s a great actor.”
“I didn’t have to do a thing,” Tate corrected her, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “No one even questioned it. We simply visited Kim’s family for a few hours, then headed back home. Piece of cake. Hardly worth a hundred-dollar payoff.”
“Okay, fine. Lunch is on me Wednesday,” Evan said. “For everyone.”
“You’re on,” Lynette said quickly, as if to accept before he could change his mind.
Evan laughed. “Deal.”
Lynette headed toward the kitchen. “Okay, I’m putting this bread in to brown and then you two can tell us everything while we eat.”
Kim glanced toward Tate, then looked away quickly. They wouldn’t be telling everything, of course. Which didn’t mean she wouldn’t be thinking of those things while they shared their carefully edited version of their adventure. She was sure Tate would be thinking of those things, too, which would make her even more self-conscious when she met his eyes.
She had hoped for a few days’ break from him, a chance to pack away her memories of their lovemaking along with some of her other treasured moments, to regain her equilibrium around him so she could think of him again as nothing more than a very good friend. Today her feelings were still too raw, those memories still too close to the surface. She wasn’t sure Wednesday would be far enough away for her to get her emotions entirely under control, but at least she’d have had a few extra days to work on it.
She called on all the acting skills she had barely needed at the family reunion to get through dinner with her friends without revealing her i
nner turmoil. Apparently she succeeded well enough. Laughter reigned around the table. Sitting in a high chair borrowed from Lynette’s next door neighbor—an older woman who frequently babysat her small grandchildren—Daryn contributed to the general frivolity with happy crows and bangs of the wooden spoon Lynette had found for her.
“I don’t know why I buy toys for her,” Kim observed after one particularly enthusiastic episode of tray-top drumming. “All she needs to make her happy is a wooden spoon.”
“Well, that and this monkey,” Tate added, scooping the toy from the floor yet again and handing it back to Daryn with a wink that made her crow and kick.
“You and the kid seem to be getting along well enough,” Evan observed.
“You could say we have an understanding. She throws the monkey, I retrieve it for her, she laughs and then we both go back to what we were doing.”
So far all the anecdotes they had shared had been humorous ones, but Kim thought Tate deserved credit for his act of heroism yesterday. As for herself, she would always be grateful to him. “It’s a little more than that. Tate saved Daryn’s life yesterday.”
“What?” Emma gasped.
“Are you kidding?” Evan asked doubtfully, looking from Kim to Tate and back again.
“Tell,” Lynette demanded.
Kim gave a succinct recounting of Tate’s quick-thinking rescue of the choking baby. All three of the others were staring at him in open-mouthed admiration when she finished.
“It wasn’t quite as dramatic as all that,” he muttered, a touch of pink on his cheeks that Kim found endearing—to her exasperation.
“My uncle said her lips were turning blue,” she insisted. “If Tate hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened.”
“And you said you aren’t any good with babies,” Lynette chided her brother, her eyes glowing with pride for him.
He shrugged. “I’d have reacted the same way if Kim had choked. I was taught that the procedure for choking is very similar with adults and babies, you just have to be a little more careful with babies. Of course, all of you trained in first aid and CPR, so you know that.”
